Alphabet of Reasons
by datawolf39
Summary: Fluff. John feels the need to explain to Sherlock why he loves him. Really light SLASH fic so readers beware.
1. Prologue

**A/n**

**A quick little fic. Most of the chapters planned out. The word count might be pretty low, but the idea won't leave me alone and my other fics are kicking my butt so I want to write something quick, easily, and fluffy.**

**Prologue**

* * *

It started because of a stray comment. John had always thought that he was the lucky one in the relationship. He was getting excitement and inside view to the genius of Sherlock Holmes. More than that he got the man's trust. That was something that Sherlock did not do easily and John was grateful to whatever force out there allowed him to meet Sherlock. Then there was the amazing sex. While Sherlock's mind was a great asset so to was his body. The man was beautiful and he knew it. Sure it had taken quite some time for John to come to terms with the fact that he did not have to be gay to be in love with Sherlock, but the fact was that Sherlock was like no other person in the world. He was larger than life itself. He was unique and that was something that John loved about him.

What was Sherlock getting out of the relationship though? A blogger and someone that could patch up the numerous wounds that he acquired. That was something that many people could do and John was worried that one day he wouldn't be enough for Sherlock. But John knew that he should not take the time that he had with the genius for granted and so he hid that insecurity away.

But like most things that fear became spoken in the midst of an argument. Being in a relationship with Sherlock did not stop the constant arguments, but it did make making up a whole lot more fun. This argument was about Sherlock's reckless nature.

"You idiot," John said. "You always run off by yourself and leave me scared that I won't get to you before some person kills you!" John exclaimed.

Sherlock sighed.

That set John off further. The shorter man balled his hands into fists and glared at Sherlock. Why couldn't the man understand that John just wanted to be in the danger as well so that they would both either die together or escape with one another. "Don't you see?" John asked with forced calm. "I don't like you facing danger by yourself. I want to be with you. I can face losing you when you tire of me, but I can't lose you to that kind of death. I don't know how to survive that."

Of course Sherlock latched on to the 'when you leave' part of what John said.

"What do you mean when I leave you?"

John blushed. He had never wanted to have this conversation, but he knew that if he didn't answer Sherlock would just pursue it more doggedly.

"I am run of the mill, Sherlock. Nothing special in the grand scheme of things. Average. But you, you are special. There is no one out there like you. Eventually you will tire of me. It is something that I have resigned myself to."

For a moment Sherlock was stunned into silence. Had this been a less serious moment then John would have laughed. As it was he could only stare at the other.

"John you are wrong. If anything you will leave me before would I leave you. You entrance me and make solving cases fun. You are a good and kind-hearted man and I could never understand why you loved me. Admiration I understood and fascination was a given. Even attraction was anticipated, but love was unforeseen. I am not an easy person to like and almost impossible to love."

John had nothing to say to that and he was basking in the glory that Sherlock wanted him to stay. He loved Sherlock there were so many reasons why that it was impossible to list all of them. John realized to late that Sherlock took his silence in the wrong way and had left the flat.

He was going to go after him and explain. But then he realized that Sherlock understood things better when he deduced them. John would tell Sherlock why he loved him, but he would do it in a special way to show the idiot how much he cared. A nice side effect of that might be that the mad nutter minght let him in on more of those crazy plans of his. But at the very least Sherlock would understand just how much he cared about him.


	2. A

When Sherlock got back from his impromptu walk he found that John was not in the room waiting for him. He was upset by this because it was a deviation from the normal behavior of John. He was worried that he had given John the idea to leave or that he had insulted him so much so that John was really angry with him

Then he saw the note. It was on a index card that was in the middle of the kitchen table. Sherlock picked it up and read it. He expected to be a note saying that John had gone out or received a message for him or something of the like.

**A**\- is for **apologies** that you give to me, but is also for **arguments** that proves we're meant to be

It was really sentimental, but it made Sherlock smile. John was not mad at him. Sherlock went in his room to put away the note. He wouldn't let John know that he kept it, but he would because it was tangible proof of the love that John had for him.

Sherlock realized that John knew him well. John didn't try to explain verbally why he was in love with him because he knew that spoken words were not tangible, but when written he could hold on to it. He could find the meaning of the word and assign them value.

The next morning John made no mention of the note and Sherlock didn't ask.


	3. B

**A/n **

**Sorry this took so long. It's exam week. Anyway, I will be uploading 2 or 3 letters tonight to make up for it,**

* * *

It was afternoon when Sherlock received the second of the notes. It was still the day after the first note and he found the next one on his chest when he left his mind palace. John was not around so he allowed himself a grin as he read the short note.

B- is for **boring** your favorite thing to say.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, but the grin still in place. He got up and put the note with the other. He wondered if John was going to go through the entire alphabet. He wondered what John would do if he brought the notes up in conversation.

Not that he would do that because he knew that John wanted this to be special. Something that sacred because it was unspoken. But that did not mean that he couldn't reward John for the kind happiness that the notes gave him.

There was no case for the moment and Sherlock had become awfully fond of the physical manifestation of their love.


	4. C

The third note came to Sherlock by way of Sally. He was at a crime scene and John was at work. Already it was a bad time to be had by the Yarders because of this. He was about to voice some choice opinions about certain members of the police force when a note was slipped into his hand.

"Here you go Freak. Your boyfriend told me to give this to you."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes in suspicion. He could tell that the note was indeed from John. This was obvious because it was the same type of paper as the two previous notes and the handwriting was John's. On the outside of the note Sherlock could see his name and there was no mistaking the steady writing there. The problem was that Sally was actually giving him the note in the first place and not ripping it up just to spite him.

For once Sally was able to decipher his expression and the cause with no help from Sherlock. "Listen, F- Sherlock, I may not care for you much, but you do help with cases and that saves lives. Also, I respect John, he... well he does quite a bit and he has not asked for much in return so yeah I'm doing this for him.

Sherlock's shock was practically tangible. Sure he was aware of the truth of Sally's statements, but the fact that she was voicing these things was unforeseen. It was do to the shock that he remained quite at he took the note from an amused looking Sally Donovan.

Sherlock waited until he was in a cab to open the note.

C- is for your **cleverness** used to make criminals pay

Sherlock refolded the note. When he was back at Baker Street he placed it with the other two.


	5. D

**A/n This note was written after the one on the next chapter. I thought that I had uploaded this one already. So this make four letters instead of three like the next author's note says**

* * *

The fourth note appeared the next night in the pocket of his favorite blue nightgown. John must have slipped it into the pocket when he had been in the shower. It was the only time that John could have done it without being seen. Sherlock stayed in his room as he read the note.

D- is for **different** thank you for being you

As he placed the note in the box with the others he wondered if he should get an album or something of the sort. After all, if John intended to go through the whole alphabet, which seemed likely, the tiny box that he was using now was going to get very crowded. At the thought of the notes getting wrinkled Sherlock decided that he would find a new home for the notes before the E note arrived.


	6. E

**A/n Sorry this took so long. Three letters uploaded today for the wait. Huzzah!**

* * *

The next note appeared by way of Mrs. Hudson. John had gone to the wedding of one of his old army buddies and had decided to stay in an inn for the night. Sherlock had thought that, that would mean that there would be no note that night. After all, just because John had taken to giving him a note a day didn't mean that it would continue that way.

His hope was that he would get a note though, but he didn't want to wish for it and then be disappointed when it didn't happen. He really detested disappointment.

After he had solved the cold case that Lestrade had provided he was back home. It was obvious that Mrs. Hudson had been in the flat because there was a plate of biscuits waiting next to a note. Sherlock didn't bother to hide the smile that came to him when he saw the note.

**E**\- is for **eyes** that trap me so often I should sue

This note made him laugh. He could see the face that John must have had when this was written and he could feel the emotions that bleed through the writing.

Sherlock had never said anything about the notes and he would not, but he wanted to acknowledge this one at least. With that he got a piece of paper and a pen. He wrote five words on the page and folded over. He went up the stairs and slipped the page under the door of John's room.


	7. F

John returned from the wedding refreshed and bored. He missed Sherlock whenever they were a part and he knew that Sherlock knew that. This was the first time they had not been together in the past 24 hours for a long time.

Sherlock was at his table doing some experiment that John did not even want to know about so the ex- army doctor went to his room so that he could put away the clothing that he had worn yesterday. When he opened the room he found that it had not been disturbed in his absence and that made him happy because it proved that Sherlock listened to him when it mattered.

The only thing that had changed was a piece of paper that was laying on the floor. John picked up the note. Five words was written on the paper in Sherlock's elegant scrawl.

Should I get a lawyer?

John smiled catching the reference to his last note. Quickly he consulted his calendar and pulled out a pen and paper. He was up to the letter F. John hadn't written the notes ahead of time because he didn't want Sherlock to find any of them before it was time. So he had marked the day that he had started the notes on the calendar so he could keep track of the letter and on the day of he wrote the note to give to Sherlock.

F was an easy letter to use so he was able to scribble out a not quite quickly.

When he was do he went downstairs and placed the note on the sofa. Then he announced that he was going to grab some milk from the store.

Sherlock waited until the door closed before hopping up from his seat and flying over to the note John had left on the sofa. He had several words that he guessed might be what John used for the letter of the day and he couldn't wait to see if he was right.

**F**\- is for **fantastic** a word which, for you, I often shout

Well that was the truth. Many Yarders could attest to that. Sherlock folded the note and headed to his room. He wen to his bottom drawer so that he could get the object that he had gotten for John's notes. It was shaped like a file cabinet, but it was a miniature version. He had a metal worker that owed him a favor create it.

He stored F in its file folder and closed the drawer. He put the cabinet back in its place so that it would be ready to receive the next day's note.


	8. G

John was in the hospital.

Sherlock sat in a hard plastic chair with his head in his hands unable to read the note that that seemed like it was burning a hole in his pocket.

They had chased a criminal and it had ended badly for John. While John had been laying on the pavement bleeding out he had reached into his pocket and handed Sherlock a note.

There was still no word on John's condition and it had been an hour. It felt like an eternity to Sherlock though. When Mycroft walked in Sherlock didn't even have the energy to glare at his brother. The man sat next to him and shifted just enough to bump shoulders with him.

No words, no overly affectionate gestures, just a shoulder bump. It was enough and Sherlock responded in kind. Although, they rarely showed it they did in fact care for one another and the pure fact that Mycroft was here showed this.

It was only after they got news that John would recover completely that Sherlock was able to read the note.

**G**\- is for the **grandiose** delusions that you have, of that there is no doubt

If John was anyone else the note would have made him feel more guilty because while not directly his fault he knew that John would not have been there to be hurt if not for him, The fact that he was John though made it humorous because this was something that John often said about him. It was a joke between them that was almost as old as the orange blanket. Fortified by the note Sherlock marched into John's room ready to berate him for his idiocy until it was so late that he would have no choice other than staying the night in John's room.


	9. H

**A/n So I am posting several letters today (6/29) and the rest will be up soon. Sorry for most of these being so short, but i did say the word count would be pretty low. Anyway I am certain that the last chapter in this fic will have at least 1k. I really want to get this one done because there is another Sherlock story that I want to write and post. Anyway review if you have the time and let me know what letter has been your fav so far. Thanks to the people that have reviewed. I really appreciate it.**

* * *

This note came to him on a post-it note from the nurses station in the hospital. He had stayed with John and some time during the night he had fallen asleep in the chair next to John's bed. Luckily it was a chair that was larger and far more comfortable than the chairs in the waiting area.

John was asleep and the note was attached to the chair folded so that the message was hidden.

**H**\- is for **happiness** of which we have more than enough

Sherlock had to shake his head at that note. He looked over at John love obvious in his gaze. He was happy that John was happy with him. Then he retrieved his phone from his pocket and typed in all the deductions that he had made about the hospital staff. There were a lot of things he was sure that John would find entertaining.


	10. I

The next note was delivered to Sherlock the same way as the previous one since John was still in the hospital. He was due to be released that night though since he was healing well. Though John would have to rest for at least a month while his body recovered. At least that was what the doctor said, Sherlock knew that John would be completely healed in half that time.

**I**\- is for **intelligence** because being smart is tough

Sherlock placed the note in the pocket with the one from the previous day. He curled himself into a thinking pose and began to plan.


	11. J

John was back at home and was resting just as the doctor had ordered. But Sherlock could tell that John was bored. So while John was napping he made a trip out to the Yard.

By the time that he had returned he saw that John was awake.

"Good I was hoping that you..." Sherlock began and then he notice the suspicious tint of red in John's eyes. "Have you been crying?" The detective asked half with worry and half with disbelief.

"No." John stated angrily as he looked away from Sherlock.

Sherlock frowned as he tried to figure out what was wrong with John. With a sudden burst of clarity, Sherlock dropped what he was carrying and bent down in front of John with his hands on the chair's arms to help keep himself balanced.

"Did you think I left?" Sherlock asked.

By the way that John's eyes snapped to his face Sherlock guessed he was right. "I didn't know what to think. I woke up and you were gone. It was like you were waiting for me to fall asleep so you could leave." John mumbled.

It wasn't often that John was insecure and needed comfort, but Sherlock could see that this was clearly one of those times. "I was waiting on you to fall asleep, but it was so I could surprise you," Sherlock said. After a brief kiss, Sherlock retrieved the box he had thrown to the floor. "I went the Yard to grab some cold cases. I thought we could solve them together. That way you could rest and I wouldn't get too bored."

John looked at him in shock and his eyes were suspiciously shiny. John pulled out the note he had written. It was also on a hospital post-it note.

**J**\- is for **jokes** like the orange blanket

When Sherlock looked up from the note he saw that John had pulled out an orange blanket and placed it over himself. "Your actions came as a shock to me. Now let's solve some cold cases!"

Sherlock rolled his eyes and picked up the first file in the box.


	12. K

This note came at midnight. John and Sherlock had been looking into the cold cases off and on for the last half a day. When John would get tired Sherlock would mess with his chemicals. Solving cold cases was more fun when John helped. Rarely did the doctor solve a case, but he always came up with ridiculous ways that the crime might have occurred.

Midnight came and John passed him a note and picked back up the file that he had been looking at before.

**K**\- is for **kindness** when you don't fake it

When Sherlock read that he knew instantly why John had given it to him this early. "You're welcome," he said. John didn't say anything, but Sherlock saw him smile.


	13. L

**A/n I want to finish this fic so i'm pounding out more letters. I have so many in complete fics and i just want to finish one. As always R and R and enjoy!**

John was rapidly becoming bored. It was well and good when Sherlock was around to entertain him, but when the detective went out then the boredom came back in full force. It was the third day since he had been released from the hospital and this was the first time that Sherlock had left him. Lestrade had needed Sherlock for a case and John had rapidly pushed the man from their flat. He knew that keeping Sherlock cooped up here would make the detective bored eventually and it was better for everyone if John was the one that was bored. However, the logic behind his actions seemed like a cold comfort when he was sitting there in his chair alone, lonely and bored.

There was only so much thought that could go into a note with the next letter of the alphabet and the blog was updated. He would go out, but he still felt to wobbly. Perhaps another two days of rest and then he would see if he could walk down to Tesco's.

With nothing else to do he grabbed a paper and pen and started on the note for the letter L. he turned on the telly to add some ambient background noise and considered what he should use L for. Love was the first thing that came to mind, but the notes were about the reasons that he loved Sherlock and is would seem a little self-centered to say that he loved Sherlock because Sherlock loved him.

Once he finished writing the note he looked for a clever place to put the note. He actually felt pretty good and wondered if the estimated month of recovery time was too high an estimate. In the end he placed it on the table as he had done the first note.

_Are you coming home soon?_

_**Yes within the hour. **_

_Alright. What do you want for dinner?_

_**You.**_

_I meant food and you know it._

_**I know, but I was simply being honest. In other news, Lestrade said that I need to stop sexting. **_

_Get back to work and I'll see you later._

True to his estimate Sherlock was home in just under an hour from the time that they were texting with a box of Angelo's food. It was only then that John remembered that they hadn't settled the issue of dinner over the text conversation.

When Sherlock saw the note on the table he picked it up and went to his room under the pretense of changing his clothing so that he wouldn't spill anything on his good clothes.

**L**\- is for **laughing** which you often make me do, but I am happier still when you let yourself laugh too.

As Sherlock put away the note he felt a bit sad because this experience was almost halfway over and he had come to enjoy the daily notes.


	14. M

The next day John decided that he was well enough to take a short shift at the surgery. The shift itself was uneventful. He had even managed to get his note for Sherlock written. M was one of the letters that he had already had planned since he started the alphabet notes.

He was on his way home when he felt a sudden feeling of dread. Only seconds later he felt something behind him. He turned to look and a fist connected with his face. He was disoriented for a moment, but before he was aware of his own actions he was hitting back. He had incapacitated his attacker when he saw more people coming for him and he ran.

Running really hurt and he knew that he needed to find a place to hide. Sadly, as always is the case when you need a place to hide, the men caught up to him, in an alley, before he could find any kind of shelter.

One of the men pushed him and made him fall and then pulled his arms behind him in a way that made his shoulder blaze with pain. John wondered if this was how he was going to die.

Then there was a scuffle behind him and suddenly his arms were freed.

"Ah Doctor Watson, what a surprise to see you here," Mycroft said as he help John to his feet.

John didn't spare a thought for the bodies that littered the alley. "Thanks," he said quietly wincing as the pain from the punch he had taken to the jaw made itself known.

"Let's get you home before my brother starts to worry."

John nodded and began to walk rather shakily to the car. His legs were scrapped in his fall and his shoulder was throbbing with pain, not to mention that he had aggravated his previous wound. In the car Mycroft handed over a bottle of pain meds and John didn't even bother to ask questions and took one.

Then he pulled out the M note that was only a little worse for wear. "Give to Sherlock please," he said handing the note to Mycroft giggling at the remembrance of what he had written and he wondered if Sherlock would find the situation as funny as he did.

Sherlock sat in a chair next to the bed that John was sleeping on. It had been several hours since Mycroft had brought John home and it was only now that he was reading the thirteenth note.

**M**\- is for **Mycroft.** Even though I think sometimes that he is annoying he more than makes up for that when he gets us out of a lot of trouble with his almost omniscient knowing. You may think it's weird that he is on this, but I feel that though I gained him as a brother so I think he makes the list.


	15. N

**A/n Sorry that it's been so long. i had this one written and forgot about it, crazily enough this is my favorite one that i have written. i'm uploading N, O, P, today and then at least Q between today and tomorrow, after that i don't know, but it'll be before the end of the month.**

* * *

When John woke up he could tell that the new day had begun because it was morning. That only kept his attention for several moments, however, because then he saw Sherlock's gaze was on him.

"Hi?" John asked. Sherlock didn't reply and John sighed.

"I'll be fine Sherlock," John said calmly.

Sherlock didn't say anything.

"Say something. Please," John plead.

"You could have died," Sherlock said.

"Yes," John replied.

"You could have died and left me alone and you don't even care!"

"I do care, but both of us shouting will only lead to an argument. The important thing is that I am here now. I am alive and I didn't die."

"I thought you were," Sherlock whispered.

"What!?"

"Mycroft had one of his stronger employees carry you into the flat. You were so limp that for a moment I thought that you were gone. It took Mycroft forcing me to observe to make me realize that you were only hurt," Sherlock finished with a sigh.

"Lay with me," John said.

For a moment it seemed the Sherlock would refuse, but then he got into the bed.

It hurt John to move, but it was worth is to pull Sherlock closer to him.

After a brief nap Sherlock helped him shower. They were settling in for some crap telly when Mycroft walked in. It was obvious that Mycroft wanted to talk to Sherlock so John walked back to the room and shut the door. After all he still needed to write the note and it was getting late.

When Sherlock finally kicked Mycroft out about ten minutes had passed. He went into the room and saw that John had fallen asleep. On the bedside table was his note for the day.

**N**\- is for **normal** which I was before we met. You made me better than I was; this I won't forget. No matter what may happen or what may come to be, you will always remain special to me. If time should suddenly take the bond that it did give, I will always be with you as long as you live.

Sherlock stashed the note with the others and climbed into the bed. He wasn't tired, but the desire to hold John close to him was something that he couldn't resist. He had almost lost him yesterday and a few days before that a well.

For tonight though, he would hold John and as long as he did, he would know that John was safe.


	16. O

Surprisingly, Sherlock did manage to fall asleep as he lay on the bed with John. When he woke it was in the wee hours of the morning.

As he laid there, he looked at John. He was a jumper wearing, seemingly normal being. Sherlock wondered how on earth he had gotten so lucky. He had a soulmate, something that should have been impossible, but he had one.

Somehow, as time is wont to do, hours slipped by while he was in thought, and his next bit of awareness was that John was looking at him, with affection.

"Good morning," Sherlock said.

"Morning," John replied with a smile. The smile faded when he tried to get up.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, just stiff from all that fighting yesterday."

Sherlock frowned.

"Stop worrying, I'll be fine."

"Bow whose the mind reader," Sherlock said.

"Oh shut up."

Sherlock laughed. Then as a man in love was wont to do, he helped John wash up, paying special attention to certain bits of his anatomy.

"Sherlock!"

"What? That part needs to be cleaned too!"

Then he made John breakfast.

"Oh my God, actual edible, non contaminated, food made by Sherlock Holmes!"

"If you're going to react like that I won't do it again."

After all that excitement, they settled in for a Doctor Who marathon.

Sherlock went to replenish their drinks during a commercial break, and when he returned there was a note waiting in his spot. He waited until John had fallen asleep before he read it.

**O**\- is for your **outlandish antics**, they are a part of you I accept even if they often make me frantic.

As Sherlock put the note in its folder, he wondered what the letter p would be for. There were so many possibilities and thus far, John had been surprising with his choices.


	17. P

The next note arrived by way of Lestrade.

The morning after their day relaxing, the inspector had come with a case. John had all but pushed him out the door.

It was an interesting case, but somehow, without John there, he got less entertainment out of it. As he was putting the finishing touches on some paperwork that he had been somehow wrangled into doing, He noticed that it was fifteen minutes before midnight.

He sighed, there was no way that he would make it home before midnight, and it was equally impossible that John would come down to the Yard, so he had effectively broken John's streak of a letter a day.

Suddenly, a note appeared on top of the form he was still filling out. "John told me to give this to you if the case ran long," Lestrade said by way of explanation.

Sherlock had to admit, sometimes John was really clever.

**P**\- is for the **purple shirt **(of sex) and how it looks on you

Sherlock was aware John liked that shirt, but he hadn't known that he called it that. Perhaps he should wear it more often...


	18. Q

**A/n this one is rather short, R will be longer. i just wanted to get this up so i would update sooner. R will be up tomorrow and i'm shooting for S as well.**

* * *

It was a little after one in the morning when Sherlock got back home. By that time John was already asleep. However, there were two notes on the mantel. One was in the skull's mouth and the other was on top of it's head, almost like a party hat.

The first basically stated that John felt that he was on the mend, both from the injuries that has necessitated his hospital stay and the ones that he had incurred from his impromptu street fight. The other was the note for the letter Q.

**Q**\- is for **quests**, the mystery solving we do

Sherlock sighed. This made him long for the time that John could participate in the work fully again. It wasn't the same without the man at his side.


	19. R

**A/n Three letters coming (including this one) today. There may be more, but for now I have only written up to T. Hope you enjoy! Thanks for faving and following and especially to those who reviewed. **

* * *

Sherlock received the next note 32 hours after the last. He knew because John gave it to him the when he had returned to the flat.

That morning, John had a follow-up appointment at the hospital at eight. Sherlock, of course, insisted that it was not necessary as John was a doctor and could tell if he was healing properly. John, however, was steadfast in following proper procedure and went anyway.

A few hours later, Sherlock got a message from John.

_KM _

_J.W._

Sherlock growled. Sometimes his brother could be really annoying with all the kidnapping. Why couldn't he just leave John alone?

It was nine the next morning when John walked in. The man was wearing new clothing, that fit well in his current wardrobe, he was clean-shaven, and it was clear that he had been with Mycroft, It was also clear that he was in an excellent mood.

What had his brother done?

"I'm not telling you," John said.

"I didn't even-"

"You want to know what happened while I was with your brother and I am not telling you." With those words he shut down his expression, it was the only defense he had against Sherlock.

Sherlock gazed at John with, recently perfected, puppy dog eyes.

"Not my place Sherlock," John said, looking away lest he succumb to the eyes. "I will say that your brother and I had a nice conversation and that we have to come up with a new code since Kidnapped by Mycroft, won't be as accurate anymore."

With that, the man went to make tea. Sherlock, forgave himself for not noticing John slip the note into his pocket, due to the surprising events that had just happened.

Later that night, he read the note right before putting it away with the others.

**R**\- is for **reality**, because sometimes is seems, that you are more of a manufactured dream


	20. S

The next morning, Sherlock awoke in bed alone. He wasn't worried though, because he could hear the morning news faintly, as well as the subtle _chink _of teacup on saucer.

Next to him in John's spot was his note of the day.

**S**\- is for **silly **which, sometimes you can be, be it at a crime scene or at home, I'm glad that's a part of you I get to see

So John found him silly did he? Well, after John healed more, the man would get a demonstration of just how silly he could be.


	21. T

The day of the S note, John had accompanied Sherlock to the Yard. Since the detective was working on cold cases, and John was healing nicely, they had decided to venture out together. Actually, Sherlock was worried that if he left John to his own devices, he would end up hurt again, and John as aware as he was of Sherlock, knew that Sherlock was worried about that, so despite the slight stiffness he was still feeling, he decided to venture out with Sherlock.

Hours passed quickly, and Sherlock solved five cases. Normally, he would have done twice as many, but they were having fun by playing a game. They both came up with ridiculous, yet plausible ways, that the crime might have been committed and then whoever had the more outlandish solution won that round.

It got more fun, when, of all people, Lestrade, joined them in the game. By that time the game had evolved to a collaborative one where each of them contributed to the most ridiculous, yet plausible, story that they could invent.

Suddenly, an easy case of neighbor intrusion, leading to murder, well simple for Sherlock at least, became a case were the mafia hired dogs and cats and trained them in the art of espionage, and that was the most realistic that they had come up with.

By the time Sherlock and John had arrived back home, It was midnight. John had gone to bed and Sherlock had entertained himself with an experiment.

When the sun was up and John hadn't come into the kitchen, Sherlock went to check on him. He found John sleep in bed, lightly holding onto a note. Sherlock debated for a moment, if he should try and get the note, then he finally decided that, if John didn't want him to have it yet, he would have waited to write it or at least hid it, until he was ready to give it to him. Gently, Sherlock pulled the note from the hand that gripped it, the fact that didn't grip it tighter or wake up, because of that told Sherlock that he had been correct in his thought process.

**T**\- is for **trust** no more need be said


	22. U

**A/n I'm alive! Sorry for the delay RL sucks. Anyway double dose incoming. Thanks for all the faves, follows, and reviews!**

* * *

The next day marked the first crime scene that John had accompanied him to since he was injured. It was an easy case, at best a three, based on what Lestrade had said, but it was special and it was obvious that it had put them both in high spirits.

"How much do you want to bet that it was the spouse?" John said as they ducked under the police tape.

"What?" Sherlock asked, startled by the sudden statement.

"I'm guessing that the spouse will be the murderer, you said it was a simple case and most of the times that means the spouse or the lover did it and from what Lestrade said I'm guessing the spouse."

By this time they were in the victim's apartment, and Sherlock was looking around. For a second, there was nothing, but the quiet background noise of the police outside, most of them having cleared out of the flat as soon as Sherlock arrived, and then Sherlock was shaking with barely contained laughter.

"Sherlock?" Lestrade questioned as he set eyes on the detective, wondering if he had finally gone around the bend.

Sherlock didn't dare respond. If giggling at a crime scene was inappropriate then bursting out in uncontrollable laughter was probably a crime.

That thought, a crime at a crime scene, simple as it was, pushed him over the edge. None of the people present had ever seen Sherlock so very amused that he was red-faced with his arms wrapped around his middle.

"It was... the spouse," he choked out. By this point he was almost crying and breathing was getting a little challenging. He was also wondering if it was possible to laugh ones self to death, and then John slapped him upside the head and he stopped.

Sherlock coughed once and then took a breath to make sure that he wasn't going to start laughing again.

"Care to explain?" John asked.

"You said that it was going to be the spouse, it was almost like you were clairvoyant, just like some people accuse me and my brother of being, and then I thought that it was almost a crime to laugh at that thought at a crime scene and apparently that was enough to make me lose control."

Despite the fact that he was trying to sound self-assured John could easily hear how embarrassed Sherlock was. John couldn't help laughing himself, at the thought that was brought on by Sherlock's explanation.

Before anyone could ask John explained what he had found funny. "I just imagined myself as a wise old owl from a cartoon," John said with a laugh. Apparently the image was funny to Lestrade as well, because despite his best effort, he chuckled.

Sherlock's eyes lit like a child's on Christmas. "You made Lestrade laugh at a crime scene," he said with something akin to awe.

John smiled indulgently, "My crowning achievement."

Once they had returned home, Sherlock settled down onto the couch, while John attempted to give some order to their belongings, he hadn't realized that he had fallen asleep until he woke up. The sun was setting and the room was getting dark. Sherlock listened for a moment until he heard movement upstairs. He let out a sigh, he was getting paranoid about John leaving the house alone.

He stood up, and a note fell to the floor. He picked it up and went to the kitchen, not wanting John to come downstairs and complain about him squinting to read the note instead of just walking into a lit room.

**U**\- is for **unguarded**, it took some time you see, but after time you let your walls down around me. I'm grateful for you letting me in your life, head, and bed


	23. V

Sherlock hated family reunions which was why he rarely ever attended them. This year however, he was roped into going because his parents were avid readers of John's blog, and very attentive to detail. Also, secretly, he hadn't fought that hard because he wanted to show John off. There were quite a few people in his family that were Anderson-esc in their opinions about him.

Now he just had to get John to agree to go.

"What did you do?" John asked.

Sherlock looked at him in surprise.

"You're looking guilty and slightly scared, you only look like that when you think that you've done something wrong."

"I haven't done anything. I just... well I wanted to know if you would attend an event with me tomorrow."

"Your family reunion? I thought you hated them."

"How did-"

"I saw the invitation. I can read you know, and you just left it out on the dresser. I didn't bring it up because you always have a dark look when talking about that kind of get together."

"Well maybe it wouldn't be so bad if I had someone to go with. People tend to show up in pairs and after a while I stopped attending."

It was easy enough for John to read between the lines. Sherlock had gotten tired of going to reunions alone and being teased by his family.

John smiled. "Well... I suppose I could clear my schedule," he said teasingly. "I was _really _looking forward to staying in bed all day with you, but I guess we could do that some other time."

Sherlock scoffed trying to look affronted, but the look was ruined by the pure adoration glowing in his eyes.

Later that night, when he headed to join John in bed, he found that day's note.

**V**\- is for **vital**, I can't imagine me without you


	24. W

The reunion was set to start at noon, so both Sherlock and John were showered and eating breakfast by 10 in the morning so that they would be able to get dressed and leave by, at latest, 11 since it would take some time to get to the Holmes estate, It was 10:02 when Mycroft appeared at their door, with a suit bag in hand, that was promptly handed to John.

John took pulled up the covering to look at the suit and nearly fainted. The thing practically screamed how expensive it was.

"Despite my preference for jumpers, I do own suits you know," John complained, his voice a little higher than he would have liked.

His complaints didn't matter anyway because when he look back at the brothers, Sherlock had a look of pleading that nearly always worked on John, and Mycroft was wearing this little expression that, o-so-politely said how saddened he would be if John didn't wear the suit.

"Alright, alright, I'll wear it," he said as he walked off in a huff. Stupid Holmes brothers uniting in making him feel guilty.

Sherlock and Mycroft looked at one another and for the first time in quite a while, the two of them laughed together.

When John came back into the room, both brothers nodded in approval. The dark suit contrasted nicely with John's blond-gray hair, and light eyes.

John felt like a pauper in prince's garb, but the way that Sherlock was looking at him made it worthwhile. "Go get dressed," he told him.

"Yes sir," Sherlock said with a mock salute as he went to change into his suit. On their bed, he found that John had laid out one of his best suits, and that it was almost a twin to the one that he was wearing in terms of color. On the jacket, neatly folded he found a note.

**W**\- is for the **warm**, in the literal sense, but in the figurative one too

* * *

**A/n Alright, i'm working on X and I wanted to know if you guys wanted to see the reunion or if I can gloss over it. **


	25. X

**A/n I went ahead and showed a bit of the reunion, not much, but enough to tell a story. The song mentioned is Savage Garden's I knew I loved you, have a listen if you don't know it, I think it fits Sherlock and John well. Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter.**

* * *

John had, had a plan, he was sure that Sherlock suspected his upcoming proposal, but he didn't care. He was a man that took his commitments seriously and he was committed to Sherlock and he wanted to show it. He had it worked out, they would go to Angelo's to eat and he would ask there, no getting on a knee and no theatrics, just _the_ question.

That plan was effectively derailed about fifteen minutes into the reunion. What Sherlock had failed to mention was that his family reunions were more of a two day party, attended by family, friends, and other guests. People came at random intervals and the plan was to stay in one of the many guest rooms on the estate if it became to late to leave.

At first it was fun, Mrs. Holmes was a great storyteller, much to Sherlock's and Mycroft's embarrassment, Mr. Holmes, though, was more introverted than his wife, but equally kind as far as John was able to tell.

No the problem arose when John began speaking to the others at the event. They all seemed to think that he was one of four things. An escort/pet, a gold digger, and or a disillusioned man that thought he could change Sherlock. The smallest subset of the guests actually believed him when he said that he was with Sherlock because he was happy with him and wanted to be be there. Even when they didn't come out and say it, it was clear that they were thinking those negative things, and if it was clear to him, it must have been as obvious as yelling across a silent room for Sherlock.

Twenty minutes in John was fed up with it and boiling with rage. Spying Mycroft across the room, John made his way over. It took took him about ten minutes to lay out his plan, and another half hour for the driver to purchase the needed item.

Once he was given the sign, John made his way to the stage dragging Sherlock with him, and soft music began to play behind him. He didn't speak, he just pulled out the plain white gold ring. Sherlock, for once, didn't use words either, and as the man sung, _but some things you just don't question, _John was slipping the ring on his finger amiss the startled crowd's applause.

By the time the first line of the chorus, _I knew I loved you before I met you, _was sung, they were already dancing.

Sherlock awoke the next morning, in his old bedroom, newly engaged, with John asleep right next to him. On the side table was the note of the day. Sherlock had wondered what John was going to choose for x, since there was such a limited word pool.

**X**\- is for the **x-rays** you've done, both in the hospital and for fun

Sherlock had to smile at the last few words. A few months ago, John had revealed that as a child he wished for x-ray vision, so as a gift Sherlock had ran several items, including the skull, through the x-ray machine and gifted them to John.

He remembered how fondly John had smiled then, he had archived the memory in his Palace. Something that he never told John was that, when they fought, and John would storm out, he would pull that memory out to stop his insecurities from running rampant.

He looked at the ring on his finger and then at the man that had placed it there. Maybe he wouldn't need to look at that memory so much anymore.


	26. Y

**A/n I'm back! Y is, I think the longest chapter of this story (except for the prologue), I knew where I was going with this letter, but it turned out better than I intended and contains a lot more brotherly bonding than I thought it would. So happy reading and leave a review if you feel so inclined. I'll see you next chapter for the letter Z.**

* * *

John woke up feeling that something was missing. He looked around his room, bare walls, computer, bedside table, and wondered what it could be that was missing. Surly with the limited amount of objects he owned he could tell if something was gone.

All through the day, shopping, visiting his therapist, and sitting in the park, the feeling of something being missing continued, but as the day went by the feeling became more intense. By the time that he had made it back to his flat, the feeling was crushing him, causing him pain that had him curled up on the bed, willing it away.

Images of people, places, and things, went through his mind, but it was like trying to grab water with his hands, and they disappeared before he could concentrate on them. Worse was the voices, at once familiar, but he could not recall who the soft, sad baritone belonged to, nor could he remember the owner of the higher pitched silky whispers. Sadness washed over him, and for the first time in several years, he cried himself to sleep.

* * *

Sherlock woke early, the sun was barely poking at the horizon, so it was no surprise that John was still asleep.

After the surprise engagement, his mother and father had asked, both he and John to stay for a few days, so that they could plan the wedding and spend some time together as a family. Sherlock had reluctantly agreed when he saw how excited John seemed.

After laying in bed for a few minutes, Sherlock slipped from the bed and made his way to the bathroom to take a shower. When he returned he was surprised to see that John was still asleep. Most days Sherlock getting up was enough to wake John.

It wasn't until the sun was risen, and they were being called for breakfast, that Sherlock began to worry, John was a morning person, and with the exception of being in a medically educed sleep or a late night at the pub, neither of which applied at this moment, he was always up in the morning.

Deciding that it would be better for John to go down to breakfast, Sherlock decided to wake him. He shook him and called his name, a slight tinge of desperation began to course through him and he slapped John hard enough that the cheek he struck turn red.

When Sherlock and John failed to show up on time for breakfast, Mycroft was the unfortunate soul elected to retrieve them from Sherlock's room.

He half expected to find them in the midst of an early morning tryst, but was quickly proven wrong when he entered the room and was met with a look of panic from his little brother. He didn't need to ask what was wrong for the answer was laid on the bed with his face contorted into a mask of pain.

He strode over, and in a show of comfort that would have raised the eyebrows of those who knew he and Sherlock, he took his brother's hand in his own. "How long has he been in this condition?"

"We fell asleep around eleven, I woke at 4:45, I've been trying to wake him for the past twenty minutes."

Mycroft nodded. "I have an idea, if this is ineffective, we'll have to call a physician." Mycroft squeezed the hand that he still held before letting it go. It took a minute, maybe less, before he returned to the room. In that time John had began to cry silently and it became even more urgent to awaken the man. He took the washcloth, that he had dampened in the bathroom sink, and gently twisted it so that the water landed on John's face. He wanted to try it this way, because he wasn't sure that it would be safe to dump water over a former solider.

Another twist had more water falling onto John's face. Finally, after several moments, the man woke up.

John looked around frantically. Where was he? Then something caught his attention, something far more important that remembering where he was. Standing there, at the bedside, were Mycroft and Sherlock.

He didn't consciously remember making the decision, but one instant he was in the bed breathing as though he had run a 10k marathon, the next moment he was hugging them. His hands were clutching fabric that he definitely did not want to know the price of, his face was between their heads, his body pressed to theirs. They were warm, alive, and real. Best of all, even though they had all the reason in the world to push him away, they hugged him back.

* * *

They were very late for breakfast, but easily forgiven once they had explained. After the meal John wandered off, embarrassed by his actions that morning, but the longer he stayed away from Sherlock, and oddly enough, Mycroft, the more his fear was ashamed of himself for this neediness, but he couldn't help thinking, what if _this _was the dream, and he was going to wake up alone, without any friends or family.

It was late afternoon when he found them, they were in the den, preparing to look at a movie. It startled him, that they were doing something together, until he figured that it was probably something that their parents made them do.

John was grateful that they didn't comment as he sat between them on the couch. A half hour later, found John cuddled up to Sherlock and dozing. "Thank you," he said just loud enough to be heard by both of them and he trusted that they knew what he was thanking them for.

When the credits were rolling, Sherlock woke John so they could retire to his- their- room. What they hadn't told John was that this was a calculated effort on their part to ensure that John knew that they would be there for him and that in the coming days, Mycroft would spontaneously appear at the flat or ferry him to a undisclosed location to reinforce this point, and if Sherlock was a little more accepting than normal, it wouldn't be mentioned.

Sherlock didn't sleep that night, after he read the note that awaited him on the bedside table, he just watched John sleep, and in the morning when he woke his fiance, and their eyes connected, he let out a sigh of relief and smiled, knowing that, after last night, he would never take in the sight of John waking up without feeling relief that the man had done so.

Y- is for **years**, I haven't spent alone, because, when I needed it most, you gave me a home


	27. Z

**A/n Here is Z! it's up much sooner than I planned. So that is the entire alphabet, let me know what your favorite letter was and, if different, your favorite chapter. I'll tell my choices in the next chapter, since there is only one left to write. See you guys then, thanks for reading, and if you acknowledge it as a holiday, Happy Halloween. **

* * *

John was in the library, they had one because any posh estate would be incomplete without one, although, it would have been nice to have a map so that it wouldn't have take quite so long to find the place.

Today was the last day that he would be giving Sherlock a note with a letter. It would be odd not to be writing up a note everyday. Z was one of the letters that he had known all along, and it was rather funny that it was more true now than it had been when he had thought of it way back on that day when he had written the note for A.

He wondered how he should give the note. Should he walk right up to Sherlock and hand it to him? Should he hide it? Wait until 11:58? There were so many possibilities.

In the end, he went with something that was a bit cliché, he had a chef, because naturally, they had several of those as well, bring it out on a silver platter at dinner.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, causing John to laugh, before he read the note.

**Z**\- is for **zero**, which is the amount of things I'd now change, my life is practically perfect even though it's kind of strange


	28. Epilogue

Epilogue

**A/n Alright this is the last chapter of the story. It's actually kind of bittersweet, this was supposed to be a fast fun fic, but it turned in to a tale that weaved itself over about a year. As for my choices for favorite chapter and letter, N was my favorite letter, I went back and read all of them and that one stood out the most. **

**Now favorite chapter was a little more tricky, I really liked T, U, and Y. They were all fun to write, and I even like rereading them and all you writers know, a mark of a good piece of writing is reading something you wrote yourself and not being bored with it or wanting to change everything about it. Though if I was forced to choose out of those three I think I would say that U is my favorite.**

Today was the last day. The final note, and John knew no place better to put it, than the place where it had all began, at the table in the kitchen of their flat.

A lot had changed since he had started the notes, he reflected as he penned the final one. He and Sherlock were engaged, Mycroft had become like a sibling to him, and in some ways he was more of one than even Harry was. He had met the people that had brought Sherlock into the world, and best of all, he had told Sherlock some of the reasons that he loved him, the reasons why he could never leave his had never imagined that all this would happen when he started the notes, but he couldn't be more pleased with the way they had turned out.

When Sherlock came home, he found John in the kitchen making dinner for them. He knew that John would try to get him to eat, that he'd refuse, John would plead, and that he'd give in. Sherlock smiled, he never thought that he would be one for such a domestic scene, but John brought that out of him and he was suprisingly okay with that.

Speaking of surprises, there on the table was another one, a note and he quickly took it from the table and hurried over to the couch to read it while he was waiting the argument about dinner that was coming.

26 notes containing letters A-Z, detailed reasons for love, written by me. Put it all together and it makes the alphabet, the letters stand for words, and the words form all the reasons and ways, I will always love you until the end of days.

Sherlock folded the note and put it in his pocket, as John said "Sherlock time to eat."

"I'm-" Sherlock started and then he decided that tonight he would make it easy on John tonight. "I'll go wash my hands," he said.

"Is everything okay?" John asked after Sherlock had seated himself at the table.

Sherlock smiled and John returned that smile. Everything was perfect until the door opened to reveal Mycroft and Lestrade. Sherlock didn't know whether to be more surprised the didn't know that the two of them were dating or to be surprised that John obviously knew and hadn't said or done anything to give it away.

In the end he settled for thinking up threats for if Lestrade hurt his brother. He and Mycroft may not be the closest siblings, but it had always been ingrained in them from childhood that they had to watch out for each other and they both took that quite seriously

**A/n 2**

**So ends AoR, I couldn't resist the Mystrade at the end, they are my second fav couple in this fandom. Anyway, thanks for reading and faving and reviewing. This was a lot of fun to write and I hope it was as enjoyable to those who read it. **


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